tempest
by stormur
Summary: Fluffy Vignette. Warren, Layla and rain


**_Rain_**

* * *

><p>They held on as they ran for cover, the rain almost mocking their euphoria, ready to drench them in its downpour within seconds until Warren pulled Layla into a side alcove of a building. "Just in time." she breathed into his shirt and he pulled her suffocatingly close as he positioned himself into the corner. "Keep me warm." she shivered as she buried herself into him, wanting to fuse into his body. She sighed in bliss when he wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling his breath ghosting over her head. "I can stay like this with you forever." he murmured.<p>

"Did you know?" she asked after a while, lightly touching the buttons of his shirt.

"I caught the scent of the rain in your hair."

She brought her face close to his. His hands trancing her into submission until he persuaded her against the wall, tilting her chin upward to look into her eyes. "I can't get enough of you."  
>He kissed her soft, lingering, drowsy, the deliberate movements of his tongue stripping her of reason. The tiny noises that he invoked from her made him falter, wanting to unstring them, to pull them from her throat and contain them. As he came over her, sheltering her as she trembled due to the cold, he had to calm himself, be obedient to her.<p>

"When is the last time I told you?"

She leaned her head back, feeling his fingers under her chin, traveling downward languidly over her throat and closed her eyes. "Maybe an hour or so ago."

"You make me happy." His fingers paused over her pulse. "Now." she breathed, biting her lip as he leaned in to leave a kiss there at the pulse. She inhaled him in deep, the scent of leather and cologne making her unsettled and she became weak in his hold. She could hear the swish of the silk belt of her coat coming undone, as he swiftly unbuttoned it, his arms encircling her waist, wanting her warmth intermingled with his. She drew her arms around his neck, sighing at the soft noise that escaped his throat as he pressed her body against his. "You make me want to do things to you ... that are obscene." he whispered. She could feel his voice within her veins, that guttural tone vibrating against her chest and clasped her hands together, never wanting for this to end. She lost herself with every minute touch, his fingers absently tugging the strings on the back of her dress, how she felt the hardness of him, the want of him spreading kisses all over her, causing a rift in her heart, a paroxysm within her soul, the wetness of her bringing a relentless ache between her thighs. He bent at the knees, taking her face in his hands and kissed her lips several times before he started to suck at them, removing her red lipstick, what remained he wiped with his wrist and she left chaste kisses, grazing her lips across the smeared imprint before he lowered his hand, grasping at her dress, tugging at her. His other hand drifted underneath, fingers desperately pushing aside her panties and heard him grunt when he felt how wet she was. "Sometimes it feels like I'm still chasing you."  
>She felt her eyes turn at the sound of his voice, as he strained to form those words. A finger slipped inside her and she buried her face into his neck. "I cannot seem to catch up to you." She unclasped her hands, touching the tie at the throat, wishing it gone, that he was unfinished before her. The rain fell harder then, as if reminding her it still yearned to keep them ensnared, trapped within their little hiding place.<br>"Let me take you." he looked at her and she nodded, touching his face, the deviltry of that mouth and she felt unsound, shivering as he knelt down swiftly, removing her panties, slipping them into the back pocket of his trousers. She closed her eyes as he leaned in close, leaving warm kisses on her thighs, her vulva, licking ever so slowly and she held her breath as his tongue licked deep within, her fingers absently touching his wet hair, wincing as he came up back to her level. As he unbuckled his belt she undid his tie and kissed him as she removed it, unfastening the buttons to his shirt halfway. "Fuck me, Warren." she slightly bounced on her feet as she draped the tie around her neck and he lifted her, carefully pushing her against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  
>She let him go and splayed her hands on either side to her, fingers curving into the wall, turning her head as he entered her, with no warning, never without warning because she wanted it that way but always will her eyes water, to close them tight, always feeling a terrible compulsion to push him away for she always felt it to be too much at once and he stilled, as if reading her thoughts but she knew it wasn't that as he caressed her face adoringly. He already knew because he knew every facet of her, he who lived within the shadows between her heart, mind and soul. "Look at me, Layla." and when he speaks like this, by confidence, he speaks in conspiratorial laced tones, as she becomes his theorem, as to a hypnotist, free-falling into his spell. She always mused who tugged and who exactly warred within the madness to their method.<p>

_Always reminding her to breathe_.

How many breaths do you lose before you realise you are dying? She narrowed her eyes, he who held her protectively against him, he who shielded her from the rain, he who could untie the universe and unwrap its mysteries with his mere touch for his touch was eternity for her. Her igneous heart who reminded her to find its beat alongside his, in perfect rhythm.

_Breathe_.

She also noted he was not fully inside her and she bit her lip, trembling, her fingernails marring as she scratched the wall helplessly. She could feel her heart wanting to run away from her, pounding against her chest with such ferocity, her eyes wet. When she looked at him, she drew her arms around his neck, not breaking eye contact and lowered herself as he canted his hips. She let her head drop against him, distracting herself with his scent, his heavy breathing. And he brutally fucked her against that wall, allowing him no repentance when she pleaded for him to undo her completely, for if there was pain, she would be rewarded with such pleasure, willing to suffer him through and through. She managed to take hold of the tie, ribboning her hands behind his head, tightly she held it as he fucked the sense out of her and she fell against the wall, a rapture at her lips, a caustic storm trembling her to the core, as if she were the ocean receding, her nails digging into his back, trying to hold on until she reached its shore again, crashing boneless within her absolution, her breath entwining with his. Her lamentations always drawing out the savagery of his own release and she curved her back, wanting more, always wanting more, the sound of him making her blind. She let the tie disentangle, freeing her hands, breathing hard. He was her sun, the revelation to his obsession as searing as the flares that untangled from the star, webbing her with its light. And she could never imagine her life without that constant light, her constant.  
>They stayed close, so close... the sound of their heavy breathing a sharp contrast to the numbing lull of the rain until he pulled away from her and it felt like a shock to her system when he did yet she held on with weak limbs and a delirious beating heart, gripping his jacket as he zipped his trousers, the tinkling of the belt buckle arousing a flutter along her spine. "The rain kept you away." she whispered, his touch tepid, lethargic upon her legs as he adjusted her stockings and raised his eyes to her face, removing her panties from his pocket. Layla shook her head. He caressed her legs before he stood, staring down at her as he slipped it into the pocket of his jacket. "How did it keep me away?" he asked, sitting down against the wall and extended a hand for her to take. She removed her heels and straddled him. He retied the strings to her dress, fastening buttons, putting her back together again.<br>"You didn't burn me." she said quietly, lifting up his collar. He cocked his head. "Do you miss it?" he asked, a finger lingering upon a button of her coat. "Tiny earthquakes." she wrapped the tie around his neck and lowered the collar, smoothing it out by distraction. He tapped his lips and like a drug, she drew it in, the taste of him, wanting to suck out the sounds he was making, kisses volcanic, static. Such deception well played, she always thought, for others had forsaken the need to wake to him and how? She forced herself off him, holding his face in her hands and yearned to tell him how much she loved him. He grabbed her wrists, kissing her hands.

"Don't ever let me go." she murmured.

"I don't plan on it, Layla." tracing a heart upon her palm.

That promise was made a long time ago, for no matter what, they always felt like the only two in a world long forgotten. Warren leaned his head back, solely watching her, bringing her hands to his chest, which he held there protectively for a while until he let go, to touch her repeatedly because he could never be still enough around her, because as he confessed, he couldn't get enough of her. The torrent of a kiss thereafter scalded as the desert sun and just like that, he cast his ray across her face, the flame swaying upon his palm despite the wind that nudged, warming her. And she brushed her lips against his, to soothe the burn.


End file.
